Artist: Sadat X f/ Hy Tymes Album: The State of New York vs. Derek Murphy Song: Ka-Ching Typed by: compbuttons@hotmail.com [Hook] I know ya bitches like mink and classy things Holdin' karats by ya ear with ya prepaid rings Gettin' called by a thug nigga flippin' them things Talkin' to ya how he want cause he think he a king This shit swing right next to his pocket, ka-ching Took ya in and out of town, show that ass some things Wrap ya body up in glass, call ya Miss Bling Bling Now tell ya friends about that cause it don't mean a thing Ka-ching ching [Verse 1] Yo on the real, yo the ho is a freak Gave me head in the car, I mean right in the street And if ya don't believe me then ask my niggas ya meet Live up on my block, sell pussy for free It don't smell, if it did I was high of the drink Intoxication is a fuck if my dick could think He'd probably tell me...slow down New York is ho town Close ya pants nigga or ya might go down Fuck a hole through ya condom now ya ass got a child Now ya know that ain't cha' style Don't wanna claim it, move away a hundred miles Called for child support and that ass blew trial Stressed out thinkin' what cha' gonna do now Gray tones growin' with a sharper tone than Al's Saxophone nigga blowin' money by the notes Stickin' us to get paid, I'm bustin' seeds in they throat Ya gets no fur on ya coat if you ain't hustle this coke Jigga said it aint a thing, KA-CHING, it ain't a joke It'll make ya grab ya totes and be out and reload And me, a business man, like to see my money grow And motherfuck a ho, I ain't trickin' no dough They haters with vibrators, they don't wanna see me though [Hook] [Verse 2] Lay out broads with the haze, lay out for two days Might tease the adventure See me freaked out with two chicks smashin' em' out Like a nigga had two dicks And the breeze done shook all the leaves off the trees Leads to homicide with the suit jacket Who want the keys in the tight package I walkin' past the park with Spark That's in the plain clothes harassin' the same niggas And smashin' the same hoes My lil' son Sammie hold the weasel Behind the phone booth and the wall is the teasil With em' up, we gon' live like ghetto stars, how we are We gon' fuck with all the broads and drink shit out the bar We gon' snatch a bitch too, throw em' in back of the car Money boss be a force Blast a gun in exhaust I don't want it no more, who had they coat and they ring on the fourth floor Yeah, let's get these broads and get the fuck outta here [Hook] [Verse 3] I got pussy on my mind But gotta keep it on the grind Track the wrong bitch, lusted for a life of crime Gotta sign, got the blind That's why I fuck em' feed em' Duck em' leave em' Then act like I don't need em' Because I don't need em' They all lyin' so you can't believe em' Fuckin' scandalous and they so conceited They make a nigga heart stop breathin' She whorin' every time he snorin' Fuck a nigga where he sleepin' That's why Trey gon' change the game Fuck a bitch, fuck a slut, fuck a whore be about cha' caine Ka-ching and don't forget cha' change Something to spin when ya tipsy And ya tip over in the Range Rover Ride it into October Fuck it, ya lived once plus the end is comin' closer [Hook] [Various ad-libs to fade]